


Whose OTP?

by Summertime_Poet



Series: FOB drabbles [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: I blame Pete Wentz personally for being the reason this ficlet came to happen, M/M, So yeah, basically- picture Patrick finding out about the Instagram post, because he obviously had to post this picture of him and Patrick on Instagram and even more so, read below for what ensues, this one's on Pete ((and my utter love for this ship. duh)), title it OTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_Poet/pseuds/Summertime_Poet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, my friend and I were talking about the <a href="www.instagram.com/p/_F3OsuIijf/">picture of Patrick and him titled "OTP"</a> Pete posted on Instagram two days ago, and people in the comments were like "RIP the next time Patrick sees you". But then again, Patrick hasn't posted/been on Instagram in ages. So my friend suggested that there would probably be more than enough people to tell him about the Instagram post on Twitter.</p><p>And then this ficlet kinda happened:</p><p> </p><p>*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whose OTP?

Patrick logged out of Twitter after a last look on the tons of notification that were about the picture he had just seen himself for the first time. The fans had often thoughtfully added a link to said picture and Patrick had eventually ended up on Pete's Instagram, staring at the screen, blinking at the caption.

He started to feel a sort of pressure in his chest but he was not sure what exactly it was nor how to act upon it.

Pete couldn't have been warned in time, even if anyone would have been around Patrick to see his facial expression darken.

 

Because the small man was by then already walking over to Pete's bus with a steady step, banged on the bus's door and stomped in before he ever got more than a muffled "Huh?" from the inside as reply.

Pete was confused as hell when all of a sudden his best friend was standing inside his bus, very obviously in one of his rare fits of temper and, as it seemed, it was Pete who was responsible for it this time.

Patrick only pulled his phone out of his pants pocket and pointed at it whilst still glaring at Pete. Then he saw his black leather jacket that he had lent Pete some months ago and ever since had let him keep lying on top of a pile of clothes on the other man's bed and huffed a little.

Pete tried to look as unchallenging as possible. If he had truly screwed something up, it wouldn't help to deny it and play innocent. He wouldn't lie to Patrick. And also, Patrick had a good feeling about when Pete was being honest and when he wasn't. He would know either way.

"What was this post on Instagram?" Patrick's voice sounded contained, but Pete knew not to push him right then.

"Patrick...," he began. "That was two weeks ago?" He raised an eyebrow and tried give his best friend an apologetic look, but he knew he was failing at seeming convincing here.

Because Patrick was only staring at him angrily and huffed scornfully. Pete gulped.

The singer didn't even reply to his statement, only kept glaring at him and hissed: "If you'd ever be serious about anything 'Peterick'-related, Wentz."

And Pete stilled because he didn't know how to understand that now...

Patrick shook his head, angrily. Laughing in that pissed off and also upset way. It was ironic as heck.

All of a sudden, he stepped a few steps closer to Pete, not hesitatingly at all. Pete by then contemplated running for his life, but Patrick was standing directly in front of where he was sitting on his armchair with his phone just right then, blocking the way to the door.

Pete put the phone aside.

He gulped.

Patrick's face expressed anger. Didn't it?

And then Patrick was holding a small mistletoe over Pete's head with his left arm, using the other to hold Pete's arm down should he try to stop him. And bent down to kiss Pete deeply. And good god, Pete could only give in because he had been dreaming about this for-fucking-ever. 14 years had been too much. He had almost contemplated becoming a monk at times. Not all too seriously, but Patrick had had him entertain all sorts of thoughts over the years...

So he gave in and kissed back, as deep as he could. He wanted to take hold of Patrick but Patrick was efficiently using only one arm to keep him from doing so.

Not that Pete would have complained, given the awesomeness of the current situation, but... Still. He desperately wanted to deepen the kiss and tried to push himself up, out of the armchair and up against Patrick.

But then Patrick broke the kiss, lowering his hand with the mistletoe.

He gave Pete a gaze, seemingly deep in thoughts.

A second later, that gaze was gone again though.

 

 

"Merry fucking Christmas, Pete", he pressed out through gritted teeth.

And left the bus- and behind a puzzled Pete who was by then on the verge of crying of confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> * ~ * ~ * (maybe not yet) the end? * ~ * ~ *


End file.
